Steppin' Out
by Tony Branston
Summary: An AU of GTA3 based on a Claude/Toni slash pairing...which seems unlikely to ever be finished.
1. Last Requests

He didn't even need to look – he could already smell the kerosene laced about the car. It wasn't a very sophisticated mechanism…hell, he could probably make it to the hospital alive. He smiled; even if Salvatore was out to get him and his only hope was an anonymous page, they still couldn't get 8-Ball to help them out.

The hitman looked nervously around the block. There were no Mafiosi in sight, but that would change soon enough once they grew impatient for a pillar of black smoke to emerge from across Luigi's club.

The man considered his options. The Callahan Bridge was due to reopen sometime that day, but he didn't know when, or if a few glory-seeking Triads were waiting for him to try and cross. Besides, he still wanted to find out who the hell this warning came from.

It was time to head to the dock by the bridge.

* * *

This whole thing was insane. The family was never supposed to betray its allies. Sal should've known better than to take Maria at her word. And he should've known better than to try working outside the family again.

But here he was, standing nervously with an AK-47, looking over his shoulder every five seconds for a naval ambush. There was nothing tangible keeping this chick from turning on him – only her word, her purported friendship with Maria, and a favor owing for getting her into this town in the first place.

He words weren't of much comfort either. "Rather courteous of you, giving us the best wild card agent in this city."

"Yeah, yeah, don't mention it." Toni Cipriani opted to sacrifice a little security to give the woman eye contact. "Besides, I might him alive later. I'm not half the enforcer I used to be."

"Just come by the warehouse by Fort Staunton. You should know the place."

"You don't want me? After what I did with the Triads?"

The woman had a somewhat bemused look. "Well, you're all Asian. I'm just saying…"

"When is your man getting here?"

The woman's question was answered by the screeching of tires, followed by a beige compact launching off the pier above them into the water. The vehicle's occupant had opened his door, making his screams of terror completely visible before he ditched the sinking wreck and began swimming for shore.

Footsteps from the presumed driver of whatever knocked the Manana into the drink came out of the silence. "The guy's um…how can I put this?" Toni stuttered, "He's what we like to call a 'recreational' driver."

"Aren't they the best…"

The kid didn't look too bad. He wasn't exactly the idol of trendiness with khaki cargo pants, an aged biker jacket and no-name brand sneakers, but he certainly could make himself look more ridiculous if he chose. The only thing different seemed to be a bit more life in his eyes, probably out of surprise, but he nonetheless had kept his cool remarkably well.

"Kid, look, I'm sorry this happened." Toni put his hands on the fellow's shoulders, just in case he needed any reassurance under his façade. "Look, Maria told Sal you two were an item. I don't know what she was thinking – she used to do this shit a lot, but this time it just didn't turn out too well. Last I heard she was left unconscious in the car, or maybe they killed her – it doesn't make too much of a difference. Anyway, there wasn't supposed to have been any trace of you two left after they finished."

Toni's associate broke eye contact, looking behind him before simply letting his eyes wander. "I know kid. Listen, Sal will snap out of this eventually, then I can bring you back, but for now you're not safe anywhere in Portland. Even if you get, say, El Burro's help, you won't last long."

The Capo took the man by the hand and led him to the woman who had arranged this. "This is Asuka. She, uh…she knows people. You stick with her and…yeah. Good luck."

Asuka offered a hand, which the hitman accepted somewhat reluctantly. "Okay…'kid'…we'd better get out of here. You driven a Reefer before?"

The question seemed to go over the guy's head; he appeared more focused on his immediate surroundings. After an awkward pause, he took a few steps backwards before getting a running start and leaping into the boat, looking somewhat nervous all the while.

Asuka gave one more concerned glance to Toni. "Our friend…he can't swim?"

"He can blow shit up, okay?"

"…alright. Thanks." Asuka casually stepped off the pier into the boat to help the kid figure out the controls to the boat. Within a few seconds, they were gone.

Toni looked on until they were completely out of sight before walking up to retrieve his car. His worries had evaporated quickly enough; what sort of self-respecting leader would he be to let one of his best men get killed?

Whatever had happened to the guy who had managed to bring this town down three years ago?

The next thing the man saw didn't help these feeling much either; the kid had slammed his vehicle into his custom Sentinel XS, and it didn't like it would be driveable. And of all the cars for the kid to leave as a replacement…a dump truck?

Toni sighed. _Oh yeah…Momma's gonna love this. Thanks a lot._


	2. Sayronara Civility

Luigi's Club was packed, as expected; the cream of Portland would never miss an opportunity to gain favor with the dominant Mafia family. The faces didn't really matter – they were all just representatives for the same few business or factory owners, trying to put on their best faces to plead on behalf of their bosses for new protection in light of the recent territorial changes on the island.

_If we can hold it_ mused the club's co-manager, Mickey Hamfists, as he emerged from the cellar with a crate of champagne. He wasn't much of a tactician and he knew it, but the idea of firing the number one enforcer in Portland (_and, possibly judging by how things go, in all of Liberty_) because the boss's girl had a crush on him (_how the hell did he even know he loved her back?) _struck him as being insanely stupid.

Yep, there was the boss Salvatore Leone, sitting proudly at the head of the canter table, bracketed from the 'common people' by two of Luigi's girls and his son Joey backing his points up across him. Even if he would take an audience from the people who thought the same way, Sal would never even consider that he had made a mistake. Everything that anyone had done for the family, he figured, couldn't have happened without him.

_And speaking of guys who deserve more credit than they're given…_It wasn't like the people at the party were going to notice his absence – unless something went wrong he usually stayed out of sight and out of mind. Mickey made his was to one of the bar's darker corners and rather conspicuously dumped the crate on the table.

His conversation with two young well-dressed woman rudely interrupted, the startled manager of the place, Luigi Goterelli, gave Mickey his full attention. "Thanks, thanks, just get this to the bar, and I don't think there's anything else we'll need from you."

"Okay boss." Mickey cleared the table of its recent obstruction. "You seen Toni?"

Luigi was already relaxed again, leaning back into the sofa and giving his partner a more tentative glance. "He showed up two hours ago, said hi, and went upstairs. What'd you expect?"

_You never know…maybe he'd go downstairs, or maybe take a walk. _Mickey kept his analysis of the comment to himself as he dropped off the champagne and grabbed a bag of tortilla chips.

Upstairs, Mickey followed the rambling of a TV commentator over orgasmic moaning. He was lead to a door of a room overlooking the street where Luigi had recently had a window installed to make the brothel seem a little less suspicious. It probably wasn't too safe, but that sort of thing didn't seem to matter much to Mr. Cipriani.

Hell, the man looked half asleep on the sofa, either a cause or effect of _Carcer Celebrity Survivor_ being on. "Toni, maybe TV doesn't rots your brains, but I don't think watching this crap is too healthy either."

"Who says I'm paying attention?" the Capo replied. "Maybe I'm just covering my tracks for some heavy thinking?"

Toni began to sit up as Mickey joined him with an opened chip bag, grabbing a couple Banana & Cherry Sprunks for the two of them. "Thanks for calling me this morning."

"Hey, thank Luigi. He told me." Mickey's smirk grew. "Hell, I wouldn't be too surprised if Sal and Joey were the only ones who didn't know the word had leaked."

Both gentlemen shared a laugh and an informal toast. "Man, where would Sal be now without you Toni?"

"Hey, you too! He wouldn't have made it back from Venturas if you hadn't dug up those Forelli reprisal plans." Toni continued after a long drink, "Don't take this too personally, but when you're finding out about this sort of thing before the boss, you know there's something wrong."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me something new." Mickey turned to the TV to watch an explosion before splitting his attention between his friend and the view outside. "So…how're you doing?"

"Eh…fine. Ma's been whining about wanting to kick me out if I don't get a girlfriend in a month – just like she's been saying for the past year."

"You ever thought about just coming out and telling her?"

Toni stalled for a moment, giving a sigh with quickly developed into a small chuckle. "Mickey, I'm glad we didn't use you as an ambassador."

"Aw come on! You just gotta word it right! Tell her you're too much of the man for women to handle, something like that. I think you're pretty convincing…you could pull it off!"

More laughter from the Capo followed. "Oh man…Mickey, I like you."

As Mickey began to look somewhat bewildered, Toni clarified "No, no, not that like that! I respect you…you respect me…I mean as a friend. You have an…interesting worldview…but there's no bullshit in it. I like that."

"Thanks, man." Now calmed, Mickey stepped up to look out the window, leaning one arm against the wall. "So…what's the plan?"

"I dunno. I figure Sal'll be over it in a week or so, then we gan get the kid back into town-"

Somewhat spontaneously, Mickey interrupted "What?! He's not supposed to be here?!"

"Uh…no…"

"Ah shit!" Mickey cut Toni off again as he reached into his jacket for a gun. The Capo himself jumped to his feet to rush to the sight.

In a short few seconds, three shots rang out. The first two came from Mickey's .45 pistol, blasting through the air and narrowly missing his target across the street. The third, a rifle's crack, presumably came from the target himself.

Apparently Asuka was already putting the kid to good use. He was barely in sight long enough to be recognized before descending from the roof of the building across the club to make an escape.

Immediately below the window, the impact was clear enough – Salvatore Leone had been brought down by the shot. The screams of his bodyguards seemed to indicate he was alive, however.

Until a roughed-up Landstalker blasted from…apparently out of nowhere…and tore straight into the man, crashing into the wall and slowly backing out while the remaining guards fled in terror.

Upstairs, Mickey attempted to break the silence brought on by the chaos. "Should I…er…be calling a streetcleaner or something?"


	3. Under Fire

_**Late A/N's**_

_**1: Grand Theft Auto franchise is intellectual property of Rockstar Games. This isn't being written to make any money etc…**_

_**2: There may be more political incorrectness as I continue – it's not like it would change the theme of the original game much.**_

_**3: I am not gay; if you are gay and feel I have done something wrong, feel free to let me know. And yes, I understand it could be more subtle – I'm just not up to it personally.

* * *

**_"One last thing – you have any investigations going on for _this_ gentleman?" From a pocket, Asuka Kasen casually produced a cell phone and, flipping it open, showed a picture on the LCD screen to the aged, shabby looking police inspector.

_The hell…cell phone with a camera? What sort of crazy ass Jap technology will this broad find next?_ Ray Machowski kept his thought to himself as he looked at the somewhat reluctant pose of a beady-eyed looking guy with brown hair and overblown sideburns in an apparent poor imitation of Elvis. "Can't say I have, but when I get back to work I'll bury the files for ya if I find 'em."

"Thanks." Now the Yakuza's unofficial second-in-command took a small envelope for her jacket pocket. Handing it to Ray, she added "There's a little extra here for Officer Klebold – you are here to see him today, no?"

_Don't remind me._ It was almost heartbreaking to bring another cop into the ring of corruption. Klebold had gotten himself deep into a SPANK ring when the Yakuza decided to strike before the police. It wasn't going to be pretty to explain to a man on life support he could either compromise his values or, in all likelihood, get himself killed.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I wanna get going soon." Ray gave a nervous glance around him through the parking lot of Carson General Hospital. "Let's not meet here again – just tell your latest boy toy go find the disused payphone in Torrington – the one by the subway station, two blocks from Love Media?"

Off in the distance, a Stinger in Yakuza colors caught Ray's attention as it entered the parking lot. Asuka turned around to see the cause of the man's shock, and simply commented "Ah, my ride's here early. Now this is a gentleman I think you'll be interested to meet…"

But Ray had already run out of sight. "Formal introductions can wait, then."

Asuka had called up "the kid," as even she referred to him in want of his actual name, earlier that morning, but she was still surprised he'd shown up. He wouldn't even speak to her – when she began to wonder what was going on he made some sort of thumping noise on his end of the line just to show he was there, and accepted her instructions with a "one tap for yes, two for no" system. The man was clearly pathological, but at least he was reliable enough to get a hit done and show up for work at 8:30 AM the next morning.

The kid looked on somewhat quizzically at the peaceful surroundings before stepping out of the car and giving Asuka a raised eyebrow. "What are you looking at? You honestly think a girl like me would risk driving though Fort Staunton at this time of day?"

His reply was a long sigh before he opened the passenger door for her. "I hope this didn't belong to someone I know…" Casually she settled into the passenger seat and waited as her man returned to the wheel. "I can't imagine you'll last too long if you stop around the construction area…"

The words went completely over his head – the kid instead hit the gas and made for a wide stairway leading directly into the road. The transition to the road was surprisingly smooth, Asuka was expecting with the speed they had taken they would have jumped at least a little, and the car quickly turned to the right.

"Well…this will work fine, just get me back to my place." The woman's composure was unbroken as she calmly tweaked the radio until settling on a quick rock-dance beat. It seemed to go well enough with the way her driver broke almost every traffic rule she could think of - going off the road, driving on the wrong side, passing without any apparent considerations – and yet keeping on a smooth ride.

"Glad to have found you." Asuka's words drew very little visible attention from the kid, but she was confident he was listening. "A perfect driver, an expert killer…I've been looking for someone like you for a long time…"

A facial reaction from the kid – he was starting to get the hint. "I think I could really work with you. What do you think? Maybe when we get to my place we can get to know each other a little better?"

A bit more tension in the kid's face…this was all going to plan. Just as the chorus started up again, as they took the turn downwards, she could reach out to him. If there was one thing she knew about this kind of strong-but-silent façade of men, it was that a little unexpected physical intimacy - only a little was needed - could go further than an entire conversation.

It should've been simple enough. Asuka didn't see any possible harm in resting her hand on the man's leg. Sure, he was a little distracted, but that was the whole point. Just enough of a surprise to be pleasing and get him interested.

The kid's complete loss of control over the car, and what sounded like a gasp, came as a complete shock. Neither occupant was injured, fortunately, as the car impacted with the concrete wall of a small garden and spun into the wall of a parking lot on the other side of the road, facing completely the wrong direction.

Asuka recomposed herself first. Looking to her side, she saw the kid was steadying his breathing, eyes closed, left hand over his chest, and right hand changing the radio onto a reggae station. The environment apparently back up to his level of tolerance, he gave a glance to the woman before appearing to shrink into himself and carrying on the remainder of the drive.

* * *

"I would like to have a word with you at some time, but it seems I've got company right now." Asuka continued up the steps to her apartment's pool, the kid trailing just behind her.

As soon as he entered the brick gateway, the kid found himself being immediately confronted by an angry Japanese guy who had just broken off a greeting with Asuka. "Ah, sho you are de one hoo was suepossed to fenish off are problums with dee Etalians! You useless full!"

This extremely unusual, now grimacing, man had taken the kid's full attention. _What the…hey, douchebag, I've heard bad accents in my time, but what the hell? Did you learn English from an internet chatroom? WWII propaganda? Who the hell are you anyway?_

Asuka struggled to keep an optimistic appearance. "Erm…this is my brother Kenji. He is the Wakagashira of our organization here…just think of him as the local boss."

_Of course; the clown is a VIP. Did I expect anything less from this town?_

"And you – 'the kid' of Portland." Kenji continued in a sarcastic, frustrated tone, with what the kid easily translated to "…The great destroyer of gangs, Fido the Bulldog, 'the Reaper' etcetera etcetera – your little 'decapitation strike' has done nothing! The Mafia are all over our territory because of you!"

The Wakagashira proceeded to produce a hastily retouched map of Staunton Island. "We've been hit all over! Nests of these Italian scum are blocking all of our activities, and it's all your fault! What do you have to say? Why shouldn't we just throw you out for them to kill?!"

What do I have to say? Is that meant to be ironic, or do you really not know anything about me besides those dumb nicknames?

_Whatever._ The kid calmly took the paper from Kenji's hands and began walking away, much to the Wakagashira's dismay. "Wait! What are you doing now? Where are you going? What on earth are you doing?"

Lacking a response as the kid climbed back into the car he arrived in, Kenji turned to Asuka. "What on earth is that fool doing?"

The woman was already returning to her apartment, making the final comment "If his record is any indication, taking care of our problems. See you in the morning, brother…" before disappearing behind the closed doors.

* * *

Two hours after he had first taken off, the kid had sniped off the last of the Mafiosi Kenji had been warned of, and, judging by the pleased reaction of the guards of the guy's namesake casino, there weren't any more on the island. Satisfied, the kid made his way down to the parking lot, picking out a rather nice-looking blue Banshee convertible to be his ride home.

The hitman's enthusiasm, however, began to wane on the way to Bellevue Park as his mind wandered. It all looked like he might have been able to survive at first – he had plenty of allies and a decent income. Now he had only two people he knew who probably didn't like him anymore, in a part of town with at least one major gang faction looking to kill him - the Columbian Cartel…and their leader.

Thinking of Catalina provided enough motivation to stay alive, just to spite her, but it did nothing to lift the kid's mood. To think he had dedicated the past nine years of his life to adapting himself to her, only to be discarded. He had trusted her with his life.

And as far as he was concerned, that life of his was already over.

The kid's musings were rudely interrupted as he was rear ended. Looking out his rear-view mirror, he saw a Triad-front Mule truck, positioning itself for another hit.

Lacking any time to react, the Banshee was knocked off the road into a concrete parking area in the shadow of the Callahan Bridge. The kid barely had enough time to bring the car to an abrupt stop before jumping out and aiming his favorite 1911 pistol in the general direction of where the Triad driver would be coming.

But this gentleman wasn't a Triad; the kid found himself facing down the bulky shotgun-toting figure of Toni Cipriani. "The trouble I go for you, kid! This bullshit…" he shouted in his stomping approach.

The kid took cover behind his car as the Capo continued. "You goddamn little ungrateful bastard! I should've just let your ass get toasted! You have any idea how much shit you've created for the family?"

One shotgun discharge later, the kid began to back away from the potentially explosive wreck that remained of his cover, gun still poised. Seeing his face, however, seemed to be enough for Mr. Cipriani, as he lowered his weapon and continued in a stern tone. "New deal kid. Stay the hell out of Portland or I'll blow your goddamn head off!"

To make the point clear, Toni fired one more shot into the Banshee's engine block, leaving it in flames as he backed away. As soon as the fuel lined had inevitably exploded, and the kid stepped out from his cover, the Capo was gone.

The kid didn't even bother to jack a new vehicle as he continued to his hideout.


	4. Pinch Hit

"Yeah, he's here. Where did you think he would be? Toni never does nothing unless someone tell him to! You have any idea how hard it is to raise a little brat like him?!"

Mickey Hamfists wasn't even all the way through the kitchen door of Momma Cipriani's Restaurante when the establishment's namesake matriarch began shouting from some unseen corner. Undeterred, the man continued into the house. "Ok, ok, I understand Marion…"

"What? You disrespectful little punk!"

Marion Cipriani, better known simply as 'Ma Cipriani' to most of Mickey's generation of Mafiosi – including her son Toni, burst out from a bathroom just by the top of the stairs. "It's Ms. Cipriani to you! Is this what we get for takin' care of all you people? I can't wait to see how your kids treat you if you can't teach them the first thing about respect!"

Mickey continued his ascent into the house, only slightly daunted by the short, graying bathrobe-wearing woman looking down on him. "uh…I don't have kids. And what are you talking about? It's only your name, and I'm an adult…"

"Ah – you wouldn't understand! You're just gonna go out after this and make my boy even worse! What're gonna do now – take him out when you go to that new El Burro movie?!"

Mickey stopped in his tracks, just a few millimeters below eye level with the woman. "…How did you know I liked his stuff?"

"Well I didn't know for sure until you told me, you giant tard!"

Ms. Cipriani promptly backed into the room she had emerged from and slammed it in her visitor's face. Mickey himself stood in shock recovery for a few seconds before replying. "It's a pervasive development disorder – it's different!"

No response, not even a hint of acknowledgement, came from behind the door. "But obviously no one gives a crap…" Now with mild indignation, Mickey continued inside the poorly lit house to the guest room he last recalled Toni residing in.

Just down the hallway, the Capo himself emerged to see what the noise was coming from. "Oh – hi! Good to see ya. Sorry about Mom…again…"

"It's okay, man. Look, I was just talking to Joey. You mind going outside to talk?"

"Sure. Whatever."

- - -

"Look, don't beat yourself up over it. If you hadn't let the kid out, there were about twenty people in Portland who would have anyway. 'Sides, if Sal was so worried about being attacked, he should've had stronger security around Luigi's."

Toni looked with a degree of awe at Mickey as he made his comments. "Mickey, the boss died a week ago! I knew him…he was a friend! I can't just 'get over' something like that so easily!"

Mickey now assumed the surprised face. "I guess I'm not too familiar with the procedure. Joey had kinda left me under the impression that it had already been long enough."

"Godammit Mickey." Toni rested himself on a wooden bench of one of the patio tables. "Don't talk like that with anyone else. At least wait until the funeral."

"That's the first thing I wanted to tell you." Mickey stopped in his tracks, waiting for Toni to completely settle down and apparently aborting his own plans to join him on the other bench. "The funeral was yesterday."

The Capo immediately jumped to his feet – not the violent reaction Mickey had feared, but still energized enough to startle onlookers. "Wha…I didn't even get an invitation?!"

"There weren't any invitations. Apparently Joey wanted to spend some time alone with Misty."

Toni fell back onto the bench again. "…the hell?…he's ignoring us for that whore?!"

"From what I was told, Joey's got her looking pretty presentable now. I'll ask Jack for more specifics if you want them."

"You weren't there either?"

Mickey shrugged his shoulders. "Meh…I prefer not to remember Sal as a dehydrated corpse in a pine box with a crudely reinflated chest."

Toni quickly recomposed his thoughts as Mickey finally sat down, bringing himself to the next most important question. "You haven't told the rest of the family yet, have you?"

Mickey shrunk into himself a bit. "I made a long-distance conference call. And I apparently gave old Uncle Leone a heart attack."

"…ah shit."

"Last thing he said was that someone really needed to do something." Briefly, Mickey looked behind himself to make sure the two were alone. "I think they were talking about you."

Toni leaded forward on the table a bit, trying to give Mickey some more tension to help him appreciate the seriousness of what he was saying. "Mickey, what are you trying to say?"

Mickey remained mostly unimpressed. "If I said it, you'd probably have to shoot me."

"Well what do you wanna say?"

The bodyguard sighed. "Well, first, I think our dress code is a little impractical. More to the point, however, I think Joey could make a good Don, but he's gonna need help…more help than he's looking for now."

"So what's new?"

"Joey's never lead anything larger than a four-man bank job, and you know it. Just…when you see him…be honest about his ideas."

Sighing, the Capo got onto his feet. "What does he want?"

"At midnight, there's going to be a little meeting out in Staunton – Columbians are working to try and get the Yardies to help them in SPANK distribution, and tonight they're gonna wrap up a deal. Joey thinks that the best way to show he has balls is to break the pact with the Cartel, kill everyone on the spot, and take the payment money. And he wants us to do it."

"Ugh…the only thing Joey's proving is he hasn't got any brains."

"I know, I know. If I wanted to prove I had balls, I would take over Love Media and show everyone."

Toni remained silent in confusion as Mickey continued. "Then again, I'd bet the FCC could get about fifty black Kurumas on my tail. You heard about how many songs they made Michael Hunt take off his playlist after what happened in Liberty North?"

The Capo rested his arm over Mickey's shoulders and lead him back inside. "Erm…Mickey…we need to have another little talk about metaphors."

- - -

From the shelter of a dark-windowed blue Sentinel recently acquired from a Forelli lock-up, Toni and Mickey sat in wait from the Yardie delegation to join the two Cartel Cruisers in the Carson General Hospital parking lot. The Capo was listening to the beginning of some pop crap masquerading itself as rock, pretty much the usual fare provided by Love Media, but after the vocals began he immediately gave up on it and turned to the mostly tolerable classic of the sister station Double Clef FM.

Only then did Toni hear the irritating chewing coming from his associate's mouth, previously blending in perfectly with the earlier beat. "Look, Mickey, I don't want to have the whole gum argument again, but do you really need to be so goddamn loud?"

"Hey, I need the caffeine, but the hour I've spent in here is hardly gonna make use of all the sugar calories."

"So just get the diet cola gum!"

"Wha…the stuff they put in that turns your brain to rock! And not even the good kind of rock that's bulletproof."

Toni sighed. "Look, next time we do this I'll make you some coffee." Upon seeing Mickey's somewhat surprised expression emerging immediately afterwards, he added "and no, that wasn't a metaphor."

"I didn't think it was." Mickey broke eye contact to continue tracking the Yardie lowrider now entering the parking lot. As the Capo realized what his associate had seen, he took out his MP5 submachine gun and loaded a magazine.

"Hmm…okay, the Lobo will park across from the Columbians." Toni handed Mickey a short-barreled shotgun. "There shouldn't be more than two of them - I'll take them out. You use this, and lay down suppression fire on the Columbians. I'll pick off any you leave alive."

Mickey immediately pumped the shotgun and gave Toni a nod. For a few brief seconds, the two simply sat, waiting for the two parties ahead of them to break cover.

To their shock, however, out of the Lobo's passenger seat instead came a brightly dressed gentleman with an Uzi – probably a Yakuza enforcer. "Hold on Mickey, let's see what happens!"

A brief firefight ensued as the Japanese sprayed into the Cartel's delegation. Quickly, he was joined by another gentleman, this one far more distinguishable, firing with a .45 with what appeared to be a good deal of accuracy.

It seemed that the kid was well in with the Yakuza now.

In terror, the Columbians tried to get back in their cars. Before they could get anywhere, however, the kid produced a hand grenade from his jacket pocket and casually tossed it between the two cruisers.

Both cars, now in flames, subsequently flew to opposite sides of the parking lot, one landing right in front of the Mafiosi's Sentinel.

Without any hesitation, both men jumped from the car, their escape partially propelled by the cruiser's explosion. As the Sentinel's engine block exploded in turn, Toni grabbed the heavy double-action .357 revolver holstered behind his jacket and ran to cover the now disarmed Mickey Hamfists.

The Yakuza man stared down Toni as Mickey, knocked to his knees, began to scramble desperately for the Glock in the Capo's ankle holster. The tension only increased as the kid approached, the battered payment briefcase from the Columbians in his free hand.

However, the kid instead opted to use this arm to push his associate back, shaking his head. The Yakuza followed him back to the car, still looking on nervously and aiming his gun at the Italians on his way out.

Mickey's first action once the coast was clear was to fall flat onto his back. "Holy shit…what the hell just happened?"

Toni picked up the pistol that his partner had left on the ground. "I have no idea."

"I thought you told him he wasn't working with you no more?"

"I did!" The Capo looked down on Mickey, every bit as confused as he was. "I have no idea why he would do that."

"Holy…what's Joey gonna say about this?"

Toni gave Mickey a hand to help him get back onto his feet. "Let's just say that they didn't show up. Tell him we lost the car because the whole deal was an ambush. It's not like the kid left any evidence he was here."

"Uh…you think he's really gonna buy that? It's not like we look the part really."

"What do you suggest?"

"I dunno. I was hoping you had an idea."

"Well, I have one, but it's not particularly nice." Toni turned his back to Mickey, loading a magazine into his pistol. "Are you wearing armor right now Mickey?"


	5. Business Unusual

**_I'm hoping to get a beta'd version up soon. Sorry for the delay._**

- - -

No, this was not Joey Leone's office. Maybe if the shutters that kept out the bulk of the late morning sun were gone, maybe if Joey wasn't wearing the T-shirt and sweat pants he had apparently been sleeping in until half an hour ago…maybe if Joey and his new residence could meet each other halfway…

For now, however, it was still Salvatore Leone's old office in the minds of Toni and Luigi.

"Well," Joey began as he addressed his two new deputies from behind his new desk, "I guess we gotta go over business. Anyone here having problems?"

"No, no." Toni went first.

"My profits are fine," Luigi began, "but…uh…I've got a bigger problem on the horizon."

Promptly, Liberty City's most unassuming pimp grabbed a dusty swivel chair from a corner of the room and set himself up immediately opposite from his new boss. "The Diablos are acting up – it's the worst I've seen since I came back here. Last night, the boys I sent to collect our cut from the old theater came back with broken arms! I think the Red Light District needs at least one foot patrol group; my guys are barely enough to keep the club secure – we can't keep a lid on the whole area under these conditions!"

Joey paused to construct his response, his lack of reaction giving no additional hope to Luigi. "Listen," he began, "Right now, we gotta focus on strengthening our base. My Pop got rid of the Sindaccos, but it's up to me to get rid of the Forellis to finish off his legacy. Just hang in there."

Luigi leaned forward. "Please…Joey…I have it on good authority that El Burro's taking moves to expand from Hepburn Heights. He wants the whole goddamn street! I'm sorry, but if I couldn't stop one guy…"

Joey's pleased face broke momentarily, only to be reinforced by chuckling upon its return seconds later. "Shame on you Mr. Goterelli! Sal used to tell me you never would resort to something like that!"

"Believe me, Joey, I wouldn't if I didn't think the situation was that serious."

Joey remained unimpressed as he got up and walked out from behind his desk towards the door of the office. "You're just gonna have to manage. Sorry Lou'. Anything else you wanted to say?"

Luigi sighed briefly before shaking his head. As Toni made a corresponding gesture, the new Don concluded "'kay. See ya'll in a couple days" before swinging the door forward.

Inside the lounge of Joey's new house, Mickey Hamfists and Misty were lying on couches, watching Saturday morning cartoons on a TV set recently installed on the bar, as they were when the three gentlemen began their meeting. Joey pulled his scantily clad girlfriend to her feet and took her by the hand off too…presumably their bedroom.

For his own bodyguard, Luigi simply made a sneer that got Mickey's attention and brought him following the two bosses leaving the house.

- - -

"Holy shit…'Sal's legacy'…bottling us all up in Saint Mark's…" Luigi continued once they were outside and well out of hearing range.

"You weren't making that up?" Toni asked, mildly surprised.

"Apparently, a posse of Diablos has been paying Phil Cassidy visits to try and get him to sell them some guns at a wholesale price. Recently, they stopped; it seems they found someone from overseas who was giving them some cheap stuff for the prices they could afford."

The procession to the driveway stopped. "What sort of guns are we talking about?"

"All I know is the order included some 9mm SMG's and compact pump shotguns – enough to arm their entire gang." Luigi continued with a grim look on his face. "Listen, Toni, I don't think I can survive this."

"…shit…okay, Luigi, I'm gonna do everything in my power to keep this from getting out of hand. When are these guns arriving?"

"I dunno, I dunno." Luigi continued to his car. "Listen, I'm gonna look into it. You, uh, could you take Mickey here home?"

As Toni began to nod, Luigi turned to his bodyguard and asked "Mickey, you wanna go on a little drive with Mr. Toni here?", not even giving Mickey the time to recover from this unexpected juvenile treatment before running off to his car with the parting comment "Great! See ya!"

- - -

Toni, with Mickey as his passenger, made his way around the driveway of the Leone mansion. "Probably going to be working with you for a bit. You heard what Luigi told me?"

The bodyguard groaned, resting his face into his hands. "He's been moaning to me about it for the past three days. Whatever he tells you about the sleep he's been losing…I still think I've lost more hours than he has."

"Heh." The Capo took it as a surprisingly well-executed joke at first, but quickly noticed Mickey wasn't recovering. "Hey…you OK?"

"Ugh…I'm tired…and it still hurts."

"Really? It was just a nine! What sort of armor are you wearing anyway?"

Abruptly, Toni took a turn just before Mickey's apartment complex, stirring the passenger to alert. "Wha…where're we going boss?"

"I know a place at the docks - they deal in surplus law enforcement vehicles and equipment. I've been going there for armor for the last few years, and they haven't disappointed."

"How did you..."

"When things get slow, and you go off and drive around a Mr. Whoopie for pocket change, I like to try things with...well...higher stakes - taking out some of our competition. Let me tell you, the secrets you can get out of public services are more than worth the time."

The armored Mafia Sentinel stopped just outside a dirty off-white stucco crane control building. "I don't expect you to buy anything just yet, but at least take as look around." Toni then placed a twenty-dollar bill and a business card into Mickey's lap. "New cab company in town. Let me know how good they treat ya, kid."

A moment later, Toni caught up with his mental slip. "Sorry Mickey."

"Hey, if I could take Maria calling me Fido, I sure as hell have no problem with that."

- - -

Marginally exhausted, Toni reentered the kitchen of his home for the past three years. This was practically the only room that had been renovated during his life – everything else remained just as it was during his childhood.

It would have been lovely if he actually felt nostalgic about it.

As Toni rounded the corner of the island counter, he found himself facing his mother, apparently missing his return over the for-granted playing of Chatterbox on the radio and her work on the stove.

Initially startled, Ma Cipriani quickly assumed the usual expression of bemused disappointment that Toni had grown accustomed to. "Antonio, what are you doing? You sneak out of the house without a sound at ridiculous hours. You don't leave a note, you don't call me – you haven't even eaten anything yet, have you?"

The woman reached over and passed her son a plate with a wheat bread peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Come on. Maybe you're not gonna be as tough as your pop, but at least take the time to look after yourself! You want people to think I didn't at least _try_ to raise you right?"

"Sorry Ma." After a moment, Toni took the overly sweet mess in one hand and began to reluctantly consume it. "Joey's trying to get back into the swing of things – called a meeting."

"And you think that's an excuse for running off without warning?"

"Ma, please, don't worry about me. It's just business."

The woman hesitated for a moment, "Business? Is that more important to you than your well being?" before retrieving a shopping list from her apron pocket. "Well you can go make yourself useful then. And after you're finished at Supa Save, grab a rifle and stop by the market in Chinatown – our new meat seller's there."

Had anyone else made this sort of request of the Capo, he probably would have snubbed them immediately. Hell, even this woman would probably have been facing a little fury a couple years ago. Now, today, he merely looked upon this with amusement while opening a hollowed cookbook where several AK47 magazines were hidden. "You're never gonna let me forget about that fat baby, are you?"

"You find me someone who can make a sausage as good as Casa, maybe I will…"

Stepping out from the kitchen, Toni retrieved his cell phone from his jacket and began punching numbers.

The moment before he entered his car, he started the call. "Hello Ray…yeah I know you don't work for me…well, no one has to know who you work for…tell she-who-shall-remain-unidentified that one of her enforcers should be keeping an eye on his pager…_adios_."


	6. The Message

_Okay…I can understand they probably had you spooked, but couldn't you have sent me a note at the very least?_

The woman has responded to his discreet letter with a great deal of interest, but one hour past the scheduled time, she still had not arrived. _I can't imagine how the meeting would have gone anyway. I guess at the sight of me, 'the kid,' the great scourge of the Mafia, she probably would get the message that we're on the same side, but without words, it would still be as awkward as hell. Maybe I should've taken that sign language class in college…take baby steps forward at the very least…_

The kid looked around; Bellevue Park was a much drearier place than it had been the first time he had been in town. Sure, all those obnoxious kids drove him out of his mind as well, but at least watching the even less tolerant Catalina snapping at them provided more than enough entertainment value to make up for it.

It wasn't the mystery assassin who dispatched the late Mayor Hole, the kid had been told, who brought an end to it, but apparently an anarchist terrorist who used an ice cream van, a bomb, and the same playbook as El Burro. Not many children lived in Liberty City now – the state government had been pressured enough to build a network of public boarding schools for metropolitan areas.

And the homeless and the hookers had evidently moved into the park in their place.

_Well…I guess things could be worse._ He had a home, a job, and unfrozen bank assets. The Yakuza had him on their pay, and the Jamaican Yardies were still in the dark about his work against them to the point that he had received a personal invitation from their leader 'King Courtney' to take part in some street races. His own personal projects were also going according to plan; even if there were two gangs in Portland ready to waste him, his business interests were still out of their reach.

Slowly, the kid began to walk away towards the gate. It was nice to get out and get a bit of fresh air anyway, but now the black clouds in the sky gave him the excuse he was waiting for to leave.

And the kid's pager apparently was out to justify this as well, ringing up and flashing the message 'Carson General - ASAP kid.'

As the kid stepped out of the park, he realized that his recently acquired Stallion had been rendered wholly unsuitable for the weather. As hard as it usually was to get the top up on one of those things, it looked like the mechanism had been broken by a collision, probably from the Kuruma resting just behind it. _Dammit, I was parked! What moron sees a car stationary across the road and sidewalk and doesn't try to dodge it?_

Quickly, the kid took out his pistol and ran to the car, opening the unlocked passenger door, jumping in and pointing the gun at the old man who had failed to drive it. _Dumbass. You don't deserve a car if you can't use it right. Besides, I can't pick up a VIP in something with a door knocked off the hinge - thanks to you probably!_

The gentleman quickly complied, rolling out of his seat and onto the pavement, leaving his keys in the car's ignition. He got one last look at his attacker, shrugging his shoulders as if to offer a weak apology, and pointing his gun forward at the impromptu roadblock in an apparent suggestion of a ride home. Only then did the kid slam the door and make a u-turn in the direction of Fort Staunton.

- - -

The kid found himself waiting a full five minutes outside of the hospital, watching the clouds drift away, before Asuka Kasen casually stepped out from the doors, looking surprisingly pleased. "Just need you to take me home, my boy."

The woman joined him in the back of the car. At first, she simply looked around at her new surroundings before turning her attention to her driver. "You ever think about your life?"

The kid mostly ignored her, carrying on exiting the parking lot. "I saw what happened to that poor girl Maria…made me wonder if I was living the way I wanted to. I mean, I can't imagine the way you live…running risks every day…is the thrill really worth it?"

To Asuka's surprise, her driver responded by pulling into the road running by the Fort Staunton construction zone. Retrieving a small Uzi SMG from under his seat, he proceeded to blast at a Cartel Cruiser in the other lane.

Said vehicle proceeded to swerve out of control. Asuka looked out the rear window to see it collide head on with a garbage truck A second cruiser which had impacted with the truck's rear tried to pursue, but with semi-decomposed garbage completely covering his windscreen the driver instead crashed into a wall.

And as Asuka peered forward, she saw the kid did indeed have a weak smile on his face.

Before the woman could settle back down, let alone compose her thoughts, she found herself parked just outside of her apartment, her driver casually readjusting his hair in his rear view mirror.

_You're not getting away that easily, boy._

Asuka stepped out of the car, but only taking a few steps before knocking on the half-open window of the driver seat. "There are some things we need to talk about - don't worry…we're alone today."

The kid looked at Asuka quizzically for a moment as she walked away before opening his door and following her onto her apartment balcony.

By the time the kid arrived, Asuka had already settled herself in a deckchair. She smiled coyly at him. "You never answered my question. What are you living for, my boy? Your little ruse back there didn't fool me; no one can live solely for the thrill of destruction!"

The woman continued while slowly kicking off her shoes. "At least during my time I've been able to get more pure pleasure than most other people even hope for. But I've come to want more! I want to discover the more complex happiness everyone else seems to be able to find!"

"But to get there, I'll need someone else with me."

Having pulled her black leggings up to her knees, Asuka proceeded to get to her feet and approach the kid. "I know you want more - I can see it in your eyes! What do you say?"

The kid attempted to keep a distance before realizing he was one foot away from the edge of Asuka's pool. The realization that he was being trapped began to create dread in his body. Barely maintaining his composure he put his hands forward to try and drive the woman off.

But she continued. "You know you want the words to come out…I'm not gonna bite…"

The breaking point came as Asuka added "unless that's what you want…" Spontaneously, the kid realized he was inches away from the edge of the water, pinned to the drowning hazard by this demented woman.

The kid's defensive instincts kicked in within a second, shoving the woman several feet back and throwing himself forward to the side. At the same time he retrieved his two guns from his jacket, pointing them, in want of the coordination to aim, in Asuka's general direction.

After an extremely tense moment, he finally realized that there was no real hostile intent on anyone's part. The kid lowered his guns and fell flat on his back, groaning in despair.

The silence was broken after several awkward seconds by the woman's laughter. "Maria really did make the whole thing up, didn't she?"

Asuka had set herself down cross-legged at the kid's side. "What happened to you? I've never seen someone who could be broken down so easily - well, not one that could still do the things you've done anyway. Maria didn't do this to you, did she? She always struck me as harmless!"

The kid's only reply was a sigh.

"Listen to me; I see what you can do, and I want to keep you on my side. You seem to understand that there's more to life than the mindless battle for this city, if what Akira said was true."

The kid's eyes quickly sprang to life. "Don't worry, my boy. Akira's a kanbu - he's not obliged to tell Kenji everything. He actually considered what you did to be honorable…and I do as well."

Finally lifting himself up, the kid saw Asuka struggle to get her next thoughts out. "I've…I've come to regret some of the things I've done. I've burned a few too many bridges…I'm just going to need some help, and I want to trust you."

The woman cut herself off with a sigh as she got back on her feet. "This was a mistake…just pretend this never happened, okay? I'll call you when I need you again. Just stay here for a moment…"

Hesitantly, the kid got to his feet, amazed he was still alive. Asuka promptly confronted him with a folded note. "Apparently your care for your old friends is starting to pay off. Toni will get the specifics for the mission to you later."

With a smile, the woman stepped back into her apartment and disappeared behind the sliding paper door.

As he returned to his car, the kid realized that the sky was looking unusually bright.


	7. How Do You Write A Prolonged Car Chase?

_**Yes, I know I'm a lazy git. I even considered abandoning this story and trying to do Claude/Asuka instead, but for some odd reason I persist.**_

_**If anyone has any suggestion for a good turning point for a Claude/Asuka AU, however, let me know and I might actually get it started.**_

_**Also, goodbye intended T rating. This move is intended to enable unlimited f-bombing and violence - I originally wanted to write this as a T-rated love story, but given the subject it seems impossible.  
**_

* * *

It had been an hour since Toni left the Leone mansion. Joey didn't have a real reason for calling him in, he just wanted to talk to someone about his goals for the future of the family.

By all means, Joey Leone meant well, but he really didn't have a good understanding of what he was up against in Liberty City. He had only been a teenager when Sal delegated some work to him, and that of course ended with a glorious betrayal in Las Venturas. Nor did he reportedly get much experience in the business in college in Vice City.

Toni hoped he could reduce the damage from Joey's inevitable practical lessons in leadership. Before he had left the new don to his plans for the evening, he had promised once more to do everything in his power to protect the family.

Everything - even if no one could ever know.

Thus, Toni's own evening began hiding in the back of a Pony van by the car crusher, waiting to bring his wild card into play. According to Luigi, the dealer had completed the transaction in Liberty North and the Diablos were flying their new equipment into the docks. Their plane was due any minute…as was Toni's backup.

Toni hesitated as the LCPD cruiser drove into the area, but at the sight of a civilian driver stepping out into the area he too took his MP5 in one hand and went to meet him. "Kid," he commented, "When I said to get something that that would look discreet in this part of town, this was not what I was talking about."

The kid simply shrugged. By the looks of things, he really hadn't put much effort into preparing for this job. He could still be recognized even with his new attire of a brown leather jacket with blue jeans. And why the hell was he openly carrying an AK-47? There weren't any soldiers nearby to blow his cover, but that could change at any minute.

Toni slung the strap of his gun over his shoulder, loosely training it to shoot of his hip in the kid's direction. "I'm only gonna say this once kid; no bullshit. If I think for just a moment that you're fucking with me…"

The kid managed to cut Toni off with a simple nod and a sigh. Somehow, his face looked unusually sympathetic. The beady eyes looked more tired than seemed possible.

The Capo remained unimpressed as he proceeded to the passenger seat of the kid's car. _Yeah yeah - heard it before. 'I'm sorry I betrayed you and almost ruined your career but I promise I won't do it again!' Gimme a break_.

Toni joined the kid in the front seats of the car. "Hepburn Heights. We haven't been able to track the plane, but we've found the guys who are gonna inspect the goods. It's our only shot - let's go!"

The kid's only reaction was to stare at Toni in bewilderment. "What the hell are you waiting for?"

After a moment, the Capo tried the only explanation that made sense to him. "We don't have any goddamn soldiers there kid - just go!"

If Toni's theory was right, the kid's expression indicated that he didn't believe it. After taking a deep breath, however, he nonetheless fired up the ignition and made his way back onto the road to the projects.

As they passed the offices of Head Radio, the kid began to slow down and look nervously around. Around the first of the apartment buildings, however, he was looking more confident, rolling into Diablo territory slowly to give the local hoodlums enough time to go into hiding before they got a good look at the vehicle's real occupants.

All the while, Toni looked on in frustration for his target. He flipped open a black cell phone in his pocket and turned to the kid. "Don't say…don't start saying anything. Not right now."

The tension the situation put into Toni's voice as he began demanding information out of Luigi went completely past the kid; he kept his eyes on what lay ahead on the road. The conversation in the background offered few hints; apparently there was a Diablo Stallion resting in the area, dangerously within firing range from the club, no less than two minutes ago. No one had seen it leave, and it was generally expected that the car would be blasting out from an alleyway any second.

_So you've got that plan covered. I'll try something else. _The kid knew El Burro wasn't dumb or callous enough to leave his men out in enemy territory long enough to be tracked.

And if El Burro had planned this himself, he probably would have hidden his agents in plain sight, just so he could get another laugh at the Mafia's expense.

The kid's attention was immediate taken by a red Stallion pulling out of the local Pay & Spray garage. He attempted to approach the vehicle, but the driver's first reaction was to slam headfirst into them.

With the hood unhinged, a startled Toni visually confirmed his partner's suspicions at the sight of an oversized Diablo-custom engine. Without a word he flipped his phone shut. "What the-"

The Stallion quickly accelerated once again and took a sharp turn out of the red light district, and before the Capo even started his command the kid was in pursuit.


	8. Skip It And Hope No One Cares

**_I know. Let me tell you, it's worse than you think - this was originally going to be part of the last chapter._**

* * *

_That was way too close. It's just my luck the cops have to pass by the garage just as I leave. Well, at least I lost them._

_Funny; I thought nowadays they get completely lost if I get the car resprayed…_

_Wait…_

Chico opened the passenger's door and began to nervously scan the roads surrounding Atlantic Quays. This was his time to show El Burro what he was made of; he was tired of being treated as a petty dealer and coffee boy for the man's photo shoots. He was an enforcer - just as good as any of the goons that fat bastard stuffed the Diablos' ranks with.

And there was no way he was going to let the cops, or anyone else for that matter, ruin his big day.

And this included the clown he had been assigned to work with. Chico had only missed one day of work to find some ridiculous phony Hispanic masked under a spray tan and black hair dye running around trying to explain how to make two naked women sucking off a soft serve ice cream machine look 'passionate.'

_Well, if El Burro wasn't going to get this guy into shape, Chico assumed it was up to him. _"Hey, Fred, we still got a job to do. Get outta there and help me look out for trouble!"

The car's occupant gave Chico a disdainful glare as he reached to shut off the stereo. "I've told you, the name is Fernando - Fernando Martinez! _I_ am not just any other man! I have a gift - don't treat me like a common thug!"

"Yeah - I won't - you haven't even earned that kind of respect!"

"What is your respect? What is the price of the respect of an imitation of a man?"

Fernando stretched himself across the driver's seat to face Chico in person. "What kind of man will only act as a cheerleader to women? You give them the supplies they need to please themselves, but all you take is cash!"

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say this: a real man must be like armor for the Amazons - or as the wild Australian warriors say it, _armour _- encompassing them, comforting them, and giving them a taste of action! I, Fernando Martinez, am equivalent to a Rhino's invincibility, but a knight's shining armor is more than enough to satisfy a woman. You however…ha ha…you're all war paint and no…"

* * *

The Diablos' representative had seen it fit to punch his driver in the face - the moment could only be better if they both started smoking something. Smiling, Toni flipped his MP5 off its safety to full auto fire. The kid took the hint and hit the gas, tearing down Atlantic Quays as a steady stream of 9mm rounds blasted the side of the Stallion.

As the police cruiser turned around for another attack, Chico threw himself throw the shattered remnants of the windscreen into the car. "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-"

"Be quiet! I know what I'm doing! I can fix this! Hold on tight!"

"Fred the engine's smoking!"

"I know!"

"What the hell are you doing? OH F-"

* * *

Before Toni could even aim at the now flaming wreck, he was treated to the sight of his enemy suddenly accelerating and flying off the edge of the dock into the water. A few seconds later a car door from the thing landed back on shore, preceded by the sound of an explosion.

In the cop cruiser, an unexpected peace had broken out. The driver was starting to smirk - he had conditioned himself a long time ago to avoid a vocal outburst, but if anything else happened he might just permit himself a laugh. Mostly it depended on his passenger.

Toni kept his stoic demeanor. Once he saw the kid's smile beginning to decay, he finally broke his silence. "You did good kid. Really - couldn't have gone any better."

The Capo's attention shifted, and he directed the kid to a growing red speck in the sky. "There's the plane. They should be turning back any minute now - there's no way they could have missed that."

In a few seconds, the figure of a light propeller craft became clear in the sky. And it showed no signs of changing course.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me…" The kid acted immediately on Toni's frustrations to start up the car again. "Won't you fucks ever learn your place?!"

The plane sped over their heads as the cop cruiser revived and accelerated. "Kid! It's a trap!" the Capo continued as the kid tore through the fencing into Portland Harbor.

So his decision of how to react was made for him. "Get me a clear shot so I can take out these-"

But it was too late. The kid had already made up his mind to not waste any bullets and sped along the side of the dock, running down a series of men carrying assault rifles…at least that seemed to be the plan until their car finally smashed into the garage door of a warehouse.

Two men approached to flank the car, guns ready. Both were shot down with a burst of pistol bullets before they could get a look at the opposition.

Toni and his driver exited the car. The Capo looked with increasing concern at the body of the attacker he had taken out: this man wasn't a gangbanger - he was a sailor. The only thing that marked him out was the security badge slapped on his cap and jumpsuit. A glance back indicated most of the car impact victims were from the same party.

_I don't have time for this. I'd better just let God sort out the ones the paramedics don't. _Toni picked up the enemy's gun - some machine pistol with a fancy looking wooden grip. The kid tossed him the partner's…battle rifle. A battle rifle with a foldable stock, hi-cap magazine and a select fire setting.

All the while, the kid was checking his own Uzi and standing by the door of the building they impacted. "What? You wanna take point now kid?"

The kid replied with a smile before kicking the door open and running in. Toni rushed to join him as gunfire rang out from within.

The kid had apparently been knocked back a bit from the enemy's gunfire, but it apparently hadn't been enough to stop him. Five men in the bright primaries of the Diablos surrounding the Dodo had already been taken down. A sixth was still standing, only to fall to Toni's own new rifle.

Unfortunately, while both men were distracted, a seventh emerged from hiding with a large red barrel raised above his head - a barrel which was quickly sent flying through the air to knock the kid back.

Toni didn't even try to counter. He smashed his hand into a switch on the wall, opening the garage doors and diving out under a segment buckled by the car.

And the moment before the inevitable deafening explosion, Toni heard, of all things, a voice with a hint of a rural accent, loaded down with frustration, commenting "Ah dammit."


	9. Just Can't Take No More

When it was over, a diminishing flame flickered through the door into the warehouse.

Quickly recomposing himself, Toni retrieved the machine pistol and started firing blindly through the flames. They died down just in time for him to see the last of the Diablo guards flipping him off before collapsing. Apparently the plane hadn't blown up, leaving the interior well preserved.

And, in a stroke of good fortune, the kid was mostly intact as well. He was lying in a corner in a small pool of blood with his jacket mostly blown off, but at least he was still breathing.

As the Capo approached, the kid looked up. "Okay, where did they hit ya?"

No reply. "Dammit! I heard you say something! Don't give me this shit now!"

Now Toni got a groan out of him. Maybe the kid was just being a stubborn bastard, maybe he got the wind completely blown out of him, it didn't matter - he wasn't talking.

_Fuck it. _Toni dropped to his knees to search the tattered ballistic vest for an opening. At first the kid made a weak effort to swat him away, but a swift, stern glance out of the Capo seemed to bring him back to his senses.

With one hand, the kid pushed away a flap at the side of his vest to reveal a zipper which he promptly undid. Most of the holes in the vest surface had no corresponding marks in the white t-shirt underneath; there was a rifle round stuck in his right side, but seeing as the back of the bullet was still visible it probably wasn't serious.

The real problem became apparent as the kid struggled to unzip the left side of the vest, and he and Toni simultaneously recognized the hunk of shrapnel that had embedded itself into the kid's back.

"Goddammit…okay kid, I'll drop you off at the hospital. You just disappear - don't try to contact me. Even if these folks aren't all dead there's no why they'll remember you. Just get out of town or something! Got it?"

The kid began to shake his head. "GODDAMMIT! I am taking you to the FUCKING hospital whether you like it or not! And I'll get your ass out of here if I have to drag you by your FUCKING…"

Apparently the first sentence got the message across, judging by the speed the kid managed to throw himself up with using his arms. He lost his balance quickly, but the Capo wasted no time grabbing him by the wrist and helping him along.

"Just stay calm, kid" _or I will give you a reason to panic. _"Let's get out of here" _you stubborn son of a bitch._

_

* * *

_That was 12 hours ago.

Now Toni Cipriani found himself in Joey Leone's office, stuck in what looked to be another morning meeting. Memories were hazy, but fortunately his body was already acting on some earlier commands to turn around from facing the seated young Don to Mickey Hamfists, leaning against the wall by the door. "Tell me Mickey…who were your sources on the Diablos's shipment?"

"Well…technically, it was Luigi who called into the dock workers…and at the time we _thought_ they were on side. I mean, I thought you taken care of that years ago…"

"Ugh…" Toni's face fell into his hands, and his body fell back into a chair. "So now it's all magically become my fault, right?"

"Guys, Guys!" Joey was apparently finally starting to getting the whole 'leadership' thing down, on his feet and trying to bring both his subordinates to his attention. "I didn't call you guys here for _this_. I _wanted_ to know what happened last night. Toni - talk to me. What did you see?"

Now the Capo faced his boss. "I was listening in on the police dispatch. It seems that most of our mystery shipment actually came in by boat - part of it was confiscated by the cops themselves, but most of it is unaccounted for. The only things on that plane were a pair of sawed-offs the pilot sprained his wrists on."

"See? I was right…technically…"

Joey and Toni gave their most awkward glances to the man at the back of the room. "Mickey," Joey finally spoke up, "I appreciate the work you've been putting in, but, with all due respect, just…piss off - okay?"

Mickey obliged, albeit with shock and a touch of despair on his face. "I was just telling you what happened..." he commented before shutting the door.

Joey's attention, meanwhile, has already shifted to the now-unloaded gun on his desk. "You know, I was thinking the old Tec's were due to go out of style soon." He picked it up to give it another look through the sights. "And this ain't too shabby. Nine chambered, HK mag compatible, and they knew no one was gonna use the stock."

"Question is" he continued, putting the gun down, "Who's making Skorpions nowadays?"

"I think I can answer that," Toni picked up the oversized briefcase hidden behind the desk to set it down in front of Joey "with exhibit B…have a look."

As the new Don opened the case, his remaining enthusiasm quickly slipped away. There was no mistaking what this hardware was; manufactured offshore by one of the only men in America who still missed the old auto Mini-14's and couldn't be bothered paying off the authorities to get some real ones into his arsenal. Just to be sure, Joey took the rifle out of the case and confirmed the embossing of the word "KRUGER" on the rubber butt of the stock.

Joey fell back into his chair with a sigh. "Pop had been having me work with our Florida liaisons before…" No word seemed appropriate. "…yeah…normally Vercetti and his buddies have a lot to talk about, but they've been kinda quiet since we took out the Columbians' ship. So when I started wondering-"

"Where the Cartel was getting product from to make their shit?"

"At first I thought I was just being paranoid; Tommy always seemed too busy to think about moving up north again. But he's always kept a good eye on where his guns end up."

Now Joey stood up again. "You see Toni? This is why I can't afford to have a broken base in town. If the Harwood Butcher of all people is trying to get all the dumb punks in town workin' together our only shot's gonna be a united front!"

"So…you want me to call up Marky?"

Joey's smile inexplicably returned. "Toni…we're long past the point of making any compromise, and the Forellis are in no position to demand one. It's time to prove once and for all - Liberty City belongs to my family, and anyone who wants a piece has to come to me!"

"Come on Joey…you know they'll join you against Tommy."

"Don't worry about it - I'm putting together something to take care of them all. You just go get some rest - you'll need it."

With a sigh, Toni left the boss' office.

* * *

Once out into the lounge, Toni was feeling pretty comfortable up until the voice of Mickey Hamfists inquired "er…boss…you need a ride home?"

Only then did the Capo realize he had fallen face first onto the carpet. "Er…yeah…that sounds like a good idea…thanks"

Running on caffeine for the past twelve hours was, in retrospect, a mistake, but he needed to find out what happened to the kid. After dropping him off, Toni had checked every hour to see how he was doing

The first five times, he was refused a visit. On the sixth, he was told the patient had already disappeared.


	10. The Outsider Act I

The pager's shrill ringtone shattered the tranquility in the former garage just outside Liberty City's red light district. Its owner at first lay still on a mattress spread over the cold concrete floor, but within a minute his thoughts has already reassembled to stir his body from its slumber.

As refreshed as the kid felt now, he remembered wondering the previous day if he would ever wake up again. It wasn't the gaping holes left in his body from last night's shootout; the good people of Sweeney General Hospital still had no trouble putting him back together. No…it was his own dumb idea to pop an adrenaline pill to stay awake, steal a paramedic's jumpsuit and an ambulance to reenter the docks discreetly, and then steal the impounded and partially disassembled plane for delivery to his associates. By the time the job was done he just wanted to lie down and spend the rest of the day sleeping in their warehouse.

Said associates, however, apparently thought it better to drive him back to his own dreary residence.

The whole arrangement was a strong candidate for the greatest thing he had accomplished in Liberty. Even before that ill-fated heist, the kid had gotten back in contact with the partners from San Andreas he had abandoned for his disastrous love affair with Catalina. Once just a pair of chop-shop keepers in Fierro, the boys had moved on to the more ambitious project of reverse engineering cars so they could manufacture pirated clones themselves.

When the kid heard their plan, he send them a small sum to help get a base of operations set up. Two months later he was reported dead when the Callahan Bridge was destroyed, only to show up at their headquarters with a security van hijacked en route to the bank in Chinatown. Now he was getting his share of their profits in return for occasional help in acquiring new models, not to mention the satisfaction of knowing his reckless driving was good for business.

More importantly, he also had easy access to the resources he needed to start his own business.

_Ah…an alliance with an underground sisterhood exploiting a technological achievement for massive monetary gain. It sure as hell sounds__ impressive. _The kid knew it wasn't anything special in and of itself, but the fact that he could run the entire thing under the noses of his enemies was still an accomplishment.

It didn't matter too much if Toni didn't bother wiring him his payment; by now the kid had made more than enough money to drop everything and leave town anytime he wanted…if he chose to.

_Then again, what is holding me back? Have I really convinced myself I could run this sprawl of a shithole? Where every other big shot has failed? When I'm still jacking cars for a living? Have I lost the last brains I had left? I need to get out of here._

_But where? _He didn't have a home anywhere else; San Andreas would be familiar, but it certainly wouldn't be friendly. And even if he did try to settle down it certainly wouldn't last before he got involved with some other dirty job.

Even the woman who was still regarded as Liberty's most depraved saw the folly of all this, but what did she know about living a normal life?

As the kid continued reading the pager's instructions scroll while slipping on a clean pair of green cargoes, he couldn't help but think back to Asuka's words. He wasn't going to argue that his life wasn't dangerous, but the more he thought about it, the less likely an escape seemed. Besides, what did she know about his life? She talked like she still believed that a little love was all that anyone needed - it sure worked out for him.

_I appreciate the sentiment babe, and if you can help me out I'll back whatever dumb scheme you've got going, but I don't feel that way. Not now. I can't handle another crazy bitch in my life._

_But…_With his usual outfit reassembled, he reached for his pager. _I think I can trust you._

_And maybe even Toni._

_

* * *

_The four were easy enough to identify; three tracksuit-clad hoodlums cheering on a fourth as he snorted up the contents of a small bag. And in their confidence, they left the stolen briefcases out in the open - a questionable move given how many of their comrades in the Diablos had been put out of action yesterday.

But as the kid entered the area, armed with his pistol, the enemy remained undaunted. Their leader waited until he was only a few feet away before turning his head up suddenly and shouting "HA! Here comes the Godzilla hunter puto!"

As the kid stared in shock as this outburst, his adversary continued. "Ohhhh yeah! We know! We know! We know all about how you went over so you could get a hot girl from China! Well it didn't work! It didn't work because - you…" He pointed a twitchy finger at the kid while inhaling, "STUPIDO!!!"

_Oh my God. _The kid sighed, resting his forehead in his free left hand.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" The tirade continued. "Don't think we haven't been watching you! WE KNOW…that you dress up like a schoolgirl and use space magic to battle us!"

"But now, thanks to your ignorance of geography, your powers are gone! DIE!" The kid had looked up to see the reactions of the other gangbangers just in time to see their leader drawing an upside-down shotgun in one hand, blasting blindly, then struggling to cycle it by shaking it vertically.

And to the surprise of everyone in the area, the kid found himself standing unscathed, the pellets buried in the ground between the two men.

A second shot ran out, this time just a single pistol shot to precede the Diablo stoner falling forward with blood in his face.

The shootout that followed was, to the dismay of onlookers, completely one-sided against the Diablos. The kid sprung into action with two shots into the first thug on his left. With the realization of what was going on, his comrades drew guns, only for the man in the center to be hit immediately while their target side stepped out of the last man's line of fire.

Both fired simultaneously, and the thug on the right fell to another pair of point-blank impacts.

Holstering his gun, the kid picked up the two briefcases his victims had left and made his way to one of their abandoned Stallions. Another pair of hoodlums, at first unnoticed out of their gang colors, leapt into action: one calling for an ambulance while the other fired dual submachine guns at the fleeing vehicle to no effect.

And as he sped towards the Porter Tunnel, the kid caught himself smirking again. _Would it really hurt to stick around a little longer?_


	11. The Outsider Act II

_**My original story plan is out the window. I've done a hasty deus ex machina ending before, and I'm starting to consider it again. I promise, however, I won't make it all just a dream.**_

_**

* * *

**_It was dark when Toni woke up from his much-needed slumber; after several minutes of trying to get comfortable again he gave up to the cold pervading the upper floors of his house, took a long shower, and threw on some clothes.

_Can't believe this shirt still fits_. There wasn't anything special about it, but Toni distinctly remembered the day he bought it, back when he was just a soldier, but was already something bigger than he had ever planned on, and he wanted to congratulate himself for a minor job-well-done.

And then when Salvatore had come out on top and made Toni his right-hand man in Liberty, he made one big extravagant purchase, wore it once, and buried it in his closet.

Now, there was no time to celebrate. For the past three years Toni had to watch Salvatore fail his quest to reestablish the grip the three families held on Liberty City. And now that he was gone everything was apparently up for grabs.

Only as he looked out the window to see what cars were near the building did the Capo notice it had been snowing. _Kid's probably out there right now buying himself a coat or something. He's having fun - no doubt about it._

_Lucky shit. You got nothing to worry about - you can just walk away from it all - again._

Stepping out of his bathroom, Toni made his way down the dark stairwells of the house. _I've got a job to do. I promised Salvatore my help, and helping his kid is the least I owe him after letting you out._

_Besides, I've got something you don't: I'm the boss, and I wouldn't give that up for nothing._

_Time for this city to get a little reminder._

When he opened to door to the rest of the house, Toni recoiled from the sudden increase in light and noise. Only now did he realize he had woken up during business hours.

Rubbing his eyes, he continued into the kitchen.

* * *

Ms. Cipriani kept herself busy. She had been running her restaurant for over thirty years, five evenings a week, and she enjoyed it. And with her husband, and his friends, keeping competition in the area to a minimum there was nothing stopping her from taking her time to ensure perfection in her meals.

There were three other chefs working in her kitchen, but that didn't help her relax. Two of them had been working there for about a year, but to her it may as well have been a week. As far as she was concerned, they still had a lot to learn about the way she did things.

The third she most certainly trusted - she had literally known him all his life and taught him everything he knew about cooking - but Toni almost always was out at night on some job.

Ms. Cipriani chose to assume he had washed his hands before he had finally come down from upstairs to work in the soup of the day. "Toni…the money you get from the gambling room alone could keep you comfortable. So you take that, and everything else you get, and you drink a gallon of coffee, run around doing nothing and crash for the better part of the day?"

After sliding some sliced garlic off a cutting board and into the pot she continued "It's not like I'm asking you to just settle down - but are you actually enjoying this crap?"

After spending only an hour awake he wasn't ready to let this drag out; instead Toni simply smirked. "And how was your day Ma?"

"Well at least I knew where _you_ where for once. Why don't you think about your poor old mother more often? Imagine how much happier my life would be if I didn't have to worry about you all the time?"

She paused briefly to take a pair of glasses out of a cupboard before continuing. "I got you a job for tomorrow night."

Toni put down the ladle he was stirring with in surprise. "Ma…I told you I can get this set up myself. I really don't still need you-"

"You idiot friend said Mr. Goterelli was hiding in his office, under his desk, with an M60 and some smoke bombs for three hours this morning because some asshole with a spray can put a bulls eye on the club's back wall. He's doing a little better now, but he's cancelling his New Year's party unless you're down there for security."

Ms. Cipriani put a full glass of water by her son. He took it and began lumbering back upstairs. "I still love you, Ma…"

As her son disappeared into the darkness the woman continued "And while you're down there keep your eyes out for some nice girls! It's only the respectable ones for this night. I don't care if they're stupid - just send them to me and I'll straighten them out!"

No reply. "Toni? Antonio?"

She gave him a few more seconds before shutting the door. "I didn't raise him to be a little punk you know. I can't believe what a bad influence that little kid Mickey's been…"

* * *

Kenji's Casino didn't have an employee's entrance per se, but the door by the parking lot was right next to the elevator to the rooftop garden, and that's where deliveries usually came in.

The kid entered the building with only the briefcase. These people had started to respect him as someone who could get things done; not many people in this town could come right out of hospital and actually want to get into a shootout with the very same street gang he had pissed off earlier.

It helped that he had learned to enjoy it. Not like Catalina, he told himself, but in his own way.

He didn't give much thought to the concern on his contact Akira's face when the two saw each other; not until Akira made right for him and began pushing him back outside, commenting "No! Not today - No!"

Once they were out the doors the other man began his explanation. "There was a dealer in here earlier - from the Yardies. Kenji is very angry - he called Asuka to complain, he's shouted at everyone he's come across here…he seems to be blaming _you_ mostly."

For a moment, the kid looked disappointed; then he turned and made his way back to his car.

Akira took the briefcase from his hand. "You…you should probably stay away for a while. If you need a job, call Asuka directly…and discreetly."

In the parking lot the kid stopped briefly. Akira took the opportunity to open the briefcase - this gentleman didn't need to leave empty-handed. "Or you know, Kenji never comes to the dojo. We could practice - I could show you some moves. Or I could set you up with swimming lessons?"

The last two words managed to get the kid's attention, and he took the wad of bills the other man offered. Then he continued to glance at the black two-seat SUV.

Akira noticed it immediately. "Ah…you haven't seen the post-recall Rancher yet, have you? You, know, they say they'll have these here at the dealers in a few months."

The kid continued to examine it; it looked like more than this car's gas tank had been bulletproofed. _Shame you tinted the windows. I wonder if…_

"You spend time in this business - you notice there's no real way to see where the big players come from. But…you can see which ones don't care what you think, and are going to treat you like an ass!"

The kid pulled the most sinister smile could muster. "Oh…I see…I'm not going around telling you what to do but…I say you go have fun eh?"

While a chuckling Akira walked away the kid retrieved his newest toy. The guys at the docks told him if he got this on Mr. Cassidy's Rhino they could take care of acquisition.

But instead, he placed the magnet with the embedded tag under the Rancher's bumper. Then the kid returned to his own car, flipping on the scanner the guys provided.

_If you're they guy I think you are I should have enough time to get a burger. And maybe see if this Mr. Cassidy is interested in a friendly visit._


	12. The Great Triad Hit Act I

_**I have, maybe, plans for five more chapters. Ideas or feedback would be greatly appreciated.**_

_**

* * *

**_In the center of one wall was the door. To the right, Toni Cipriani leaned on the second wall, watching the other two men in the room. To the left was Mickey Hamfists reading over the paper case of a video he had hoped to watch tonight.

And across the door, slumped into his desk's chair, was Luigi Goterelli, resting his head in his left hand. "Four hours. If we don't see nothing by midnight, I'll call it safe."

In the following moment of silence, Mickey began eyeing the other men in the room. "One of us needs to go downstairs…"

"We'll let Joey do it. He enjoys playing that John Gaudy shit." Luigi settled his right temple in his spare hand. "When he gets here goddammit…"

"Hey! Come on Lou - he's got shit he needs to take care of too."

"Yeah? When's he gonna take care of it Toni? What's this kid ever done for us?"

The sudden burst of energy that brought Luigi to his feet was of no comfort to either of the other men. "It's like Don Viola and the Hoods all over again! You don't protect your businesses - you're gonna lose them and the guys you got runnin' em! If I'd been made back then I never would've made it out of Carcer alive!"

"And the only reason I had to go to Carcer in the first place was because Joey's pop made the same goddamn mistake Don Viola did!" Luigi punctuated his last outburst by bringing down his fist on his desk, nearly knocking his loaded .45 onto the floor.

Seeing the shock on his friends' faces, Luigi let out a sigh. "Toni…you wanna go get a drink?"

Mickey was the last of the three to leave Luigi's office, and only to clean up a cut he got trying to plug in his old TV. Getting an infection would be the last thing Luigi would want from him.

Or maybe he was going to get a cold. _Who opened the bathroom window? It's December - we don't need it any colder in here! _It wasn't like there was anyone else in the club's secret brothel tonight.

Or are at least there wasn't supposed to be. Mickey first noticed the closed stall in the sink's mirror and promptly shouted "We're closed! Fuck off!"

It was at this point that the door slowly opened, revealing a suppressed pistol in the hands of a headache-maker Mickey had assumed had already moved on to greener pastures.

"Fuck you, kid."

* * *

"Okay - first, since you snuck in, no one knows you're here. If you had stormed the building, you would've had everyone you'd ever pissed off coming here to get you. You could probably try calling them, but I don't think they know what your voice sounds like."

This was getting too weird for Mickey - all the kid wanted him to do was help him move a crate he had apparently had smuggled in earlier, up to the roof. _(How did he even know about the secret vent escape anyway?)_ Inside were two refurbished M16s, one of which the kid handed to Mickey.

"Second, you got the right gun, but you forgot the grenade launcher." Mickey had a vague idea of what the kid might be doing, and he could understand this part of it - not even Phil could get the M203's in stock. His apparent substitute, according to the box he was retrieving several new 60-round magazines from, was to just use incendiary ammunition.

"Third, even if people show up, I don't even have the right gun." Now the kid was just careless - Luigi had five guards who all liked to use shotguns, and they all probably hated him more than Mickey ever did.

"Fourth…you ain't even listening are you?"

The kid was busy positioning his rifle on the fencing overlooking the street. Finally Mickey picked up two magazines for himself. "Okay, what's your stupid plan?"

The only reply Mickey received was a glance, followed by the kid directing him to the platform behind the club's facade.

A tense silence ensued for the next few seconds until the kid apparently saw what he had been looking for. As Mickey watched, he flipped off the safety of his gun and started blasting away at a Mule that was rushing straight at the club.

Mickey didn't think much of it until, after only about a second of continuous fire, the car exploded in a massive ball of light. _What? Where they packin' fireworks in there? Fuck are they doing?_

_Shit_! As Mickey saw a second truck coming down from Hepburn Heights he immediately pulled down the trigger on his own gun, barely managing to keep the thing steady and on target until the truck stopped.

Two men in black suits ran from the flaming wreck, each firing two machine pistols at the roof of the club. With Mickey pinned down, the kid briefly returned fire, hitting one of the men twice in the chest.

As the wounded man was dragged to cover by his accomplice, their truck went through a relatively subdued explosion.

Mickey turned to the kid. "Are they…it can't be! Liberty's Triads have never been that good!"

A third truck rounded the corner from the other end of the street and, before either gunman could react, smashed into the building. Slinging his gun over his shoulder, the kid retrieved a full glass bottle sealed with a rag from inside his jacket.

Mickey smirked as he fired two shot to ignite the molotov, which the kid subsequently dropped in front of the club's entrance. One of the truck's drivers ran, desperately trying to reach the former location of a displaced fire hydrant before he burned to death, while his accomplice hid behind the truck and opened fire.

Neither of the club's defenders could break out of cover long enough to see what was the latest vehicle that had screeched to a halt in front of them. The kid, however, began making his way back to the open vent, closing it on his way down.


End file.
